


Take My Breath Away

by St0rybr00ke



Series: 101 Smut Drabbles [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Choking, Depression, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, Humiliation, Kink Meme, Light Dom/sub, Loneliness, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, NSFW, Name-Calling, Oral Sex, PWP, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Scars, Size Kink, Slapping, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 10:49:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11712858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St0rybr00ke/pseuds/St0rybr00ke
Summary: Part 2: Murphy stumbles drunk into Bellamy's tent into the middle of the night, broken. Bellamy sees a side of him he never thought he'd see. Murphy needs someone to remind him of his place when he steps out of line(Angsty porn ft broken Murphy)





	Take My Breath Away

"You're such a fuckin' asshole." Murphy's slurring his words as he slumps over himself. He's sitting cross legged on the floor of Bellamy's tent, a near empty mug clutched in his hand. Bellamy assumes he had gotten a hold of some of Jasper's moonshine (more rightly Bellamy thought it should be called paint thinner from the way it smelled. Bellamy is still in his sleeping bag, propped up on his elbows and staring at murphy through blurry eyes. The younger boy had ungracefully burst into Bellamy's tent reeking of booze and had dropped to the floor in a cross legged position. The two had sat in silence before Murphy broke it with his statement. Bellamy arched a thick brow as he pushed up from his sitting position and glowered at the boy he'd once tried to hang. 

"Is that what you broke into my tent at all hours of the night to tell me?" Bellamy scowls, rubbing furiously at his eyes. Everyone else was in bed by now, Murphy must've been drinking alone, but when wasn't he alone? Murphy chuckles without a trace of humor and suddenly throws his head back.

"I guess. I just... I still see it every night." Murphy's voice turns somber and he locks eyes with Murphy. It sends chills down Bellamy's spine to see the empty hopelessness lurking in the depths. He's never seen Murphy like this, so open and full of sadness yet devoid of any true emotion. I close my eyes, and I look down, I feel that fucking belt wrapped around my neck. I'm standing there on that stool, and I'm begging you not to, I'm telling you over and over that it wasn't me, and it looks like you believe me, but everyone is calling for my death, they want to see me die. They don't even care that Welles is dead, they just want to see my dead body hanging from a tree." Murphy's voice is so bitter, and Bellamy feels a pang of guilt stab through him painfully, but he can't bring himself to look away. Murphy hasn't spoken of what happened between them that night, of the hanging. "And then, they shove that fuckin' dirty ass rag into my mouth 'cause I can't stop screaming like a little fucking bitch." He sounds so angry, but this time it doesn't feel directed towards Bellamy, it feels as if it's directed towards himself. His voice is poisoned with shame and absolute guilt as if he can't possibly stand to remember how he shed tears in front of every single person in their camp, how he screamed and begged for mercy. Bellamy wants to break in, to interrupt him and remind him that it wasn't everyone. Bellamy remembers watch Mbege hanging back with a nervous gaze. But he doesn't, because like everyone else Mbege was silent and didn't once try to interrupt. Only Clarke did, only Clarke tried to stop him, but not for Murphy's sake but for his own. Because Clarke knew that if Bellamy was making a mistake it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"But you didn't listen, nobody would listen to me that I was innocent." Murphy's continuing and Bellamy can't look away, can't stop listening because he's never heard Murphy speak like this, he's never heard Murphy's side of the story because Murphy refused to speak about it. Murphy's voice was raw with sadness and anger and Bellamy hates to admit that it's pulling at his heartstrings to finally see how absolutely broken Murphy truly is. His shoulders are slumped over and suddenly the cup drops from his limp hands. Every emotion leaves his eyes but he won't fucking look away from Bellamy and Bellamy knows that Murphy is envisioning, reliving every second as he narrates it out loud. 

"I... I looked up t-to you, ya know. It's fucking stupid, but you asked me to be a part of your team and I accepted because nobody asked me to every be a part of everything. I thought... It's fucking stupid..." Murphy trails off into a slur of unintelligible gibber as he buries his face in his hands and lets out a long low, groan and Bellamy swears he can hear Murphy chipping apart in front of him. "I thought..." Murphy looks back up at Bellamy with hollow eyes as he picks back up on his train of thought. "I thought you saw something in me that the others didn't. That you didn't just see me as some asshole who picks fight." Murphy mumbled. Bellamy is relieved when Murphy drops his gaze down to his hands. He thinks he might not stand it if Murphy keeps gazing at him with those broken dead eyes. But his relief is short lived for seconds later Murphy is staring back into Bellamy's guilt ridden eyes once more. He leans forward, Murphy knows his words are starting to get under Bellamy's skin and the little shit wants him to feel like shit, wants him to feel awful for the things he did under pressure.

"So I'm up there on that stool with a goddamn noose around my neck and a rag in my mouth, and I look down at you, and you're just staring up at me and I look into your eyes and you know what I see?" the question hangs heavy in the air but Bellamy knows it's rhetorical so he doesn't answer it despite his desire to protest and tell Murphy to get the fuck out of his tent. Because despite his guilt and anger towards Murphy for dragging all this up. He's desperate to know what Murphy saw in his eyes. 

"Hate, Bellamy. You wanted so badly it to be me that you were ready to kill me at a moments notice." Murphy's voice cracks and Bellamy could've sworn he saw tears welling up in the younger boy's eyes.

"Murphy, it wasn't like tha-"

"No, you wanted to see me dead just like everyone else. And when I looked at you I hoped so fuckin' badly that you would see in my eyes that I really was innocent, it felt like I was looking into your eyes for so long, just like I am now, but it really was a second. Everything slowed down and there wasn't an ounce of forgiveness in your eyes. And then you just... You just kicked the stool out from underneath my feet." Murphy's bottom lip is trembling and Bellamy finally sees a tear escape and trail down his cheek. Bellamy is absolutely glued to his seat just staring at Murphy. Murphy is still gazing into Bellamy's brown gaze but it's as if he's looking right through Bellamy, as if Murphy is just having a conversation with himself, reliving every second of that tragic 24 hours.

"Right away I couldn't breathe. The belt was so tight on my neck, it hurt, I thought my head was gonna come off my neck. I couldn't even gasp, I couldn't get a single bit of air into my lungs. My hands were tied behind my back, all I could do is kick my feet and fuckin' flail around like a fish out of water." Murphy spits out and he's focused back on Bellamy, he's back in the real world and out of his memories. Bellamy wishes Murphy would zone out again, that blank look through him, he would take that any over that helpless lonely gaze that bored through him making him feel like the biggest dick in the world. "I could hear everyone, it all sounded so fuzzy and far away I can still see them all fuckin' laughing and-and cheering while I hung there and struggled. But what I remember seeing?" Murphy's voice cracks again so helplessly, just like the day where he was begging for his life. He suddenly hangs his head and his hand flies to his throat, rubbing viciously at the skin as if he felt the tight belt around his neck once again. "I remember seeing you standing there watching me, and you didn't even flinch. You just stood and watched. You didn't smile. You didn't laugh or cheer. You just looked at me hanging there like it was normal, like you were watching the garbage getting taken away." 

"I didn't want to do i-"

"But what I felt was even worse." It seems as though Murphy has no intentions of letting him speak and Bellamy figures he deserves it. He seems to be the villain in this story and villains don't get a say. "It was like I was frozen. I couldn't scream out, I couldn't free myself. I didn't even have a chance to defend myself when you sicced those teenage fucks on me. Tied me up like a fucking animal and lynched me when I didn't do anything. My head hurt so bad, my vision was going black and it was so fuckin' scary, Bellamy." The tears are falling freely now as Murphy suddenly hunches over himself and Bellamy watches as a silent sob wracks the boy's body. "I just hung there choking, gagging. I've wanted to die so many times, I've thought about hanging myself in my cell with my sheets." Bellamy has to admit that caught him off guard and he doesn't seem to be very good at hiding his shock from the way Murphy shrinks into himself in shame when he sees Bellamy's expression. "But I never realized it would be like that. I never realized how fucking slow and painful it is to suffocate at the end of the rope." Murphy's voice is suddenly calm and empty again despite the wet tears streaking down his cheeks. "I thought I was going to die, Bellamy. But right as I was on the brink, I heard Charlotte's voice. She was screaming, confessing." Murphy can remember every little detail of the day down to where the sun was hanging when he himself was hung up in the sky. "But at that brink, there was no light. There was none of that, then he walked into the bright light, bullshit. It was all darkness. There was nothing waiting for me on the other side." Bellamy wonders if it's true, if Murphy saw into the afterlife and realized there was absolutely nothing except for an eternity in the everlasting void of pitch black limbo. 

"Then the next thing I know is I'm falling, and I hit the ground hard. I can remember finally being able to breathe. It felt so good, all that air rushing into my lungs." Murphy's chapped bitten lips, the corners suddenly twitched up into a smile and Murphy felt for a moment as if he could feel that complete utter bliss of finally being able to breathe. "Charlotte confessed, she told everyone about how she took my knife and killed Welles. She wanted you all to blame me. She knew you all would jump at the chance to kill me. You all were so ready to execute me, but you wanted to spare Charlotte. It didn't matter if I had killed him or not, you all, all of you... wanted me dead." Murphy's story is beginning to sound like an echo; an echo of loneliness and solitude. Murphy had been an outcast among outcasts, he had relied on Bellamy as the one person to want him and coming to the realization that among the unwanted he was the least desirable. Murphy had been in pieces before, he felt that he kept himself glued together just barely from the support of his one friend Mbege, but it turns out they weren't even friends. Friends protected each other. He'd seen the way Clarke protected Finn, how Bellamy defended his other camp mates. But there had been nothing for Murphy. 

"And then," Murphy threw his head back with a cold laugh and Bellamy is honestly a bit worried for the drunken boy. He's smiling and laughing so hollowly yet with tears pouring down his cheeks and his hands shaking. Bellamy glances at Murphy's hands and sees the callouses, the jagged nails and he suddenly notices red marks on his wrists that matches with Murphy's fingernails as if the boy had been clawing at his arms like a madman. That's what Murphy is, a boy, a frightened young boy who has seen far too much for his 17 years of life. But he supposes they all have seen things that some grown men from the Ark wouldn't be able to handle. 

"Then, you cast me aside. Charlotte kills herself for what she did to Welles, how she just fucking stabbed him to death like it was nothing, and I'm punished for it?!" Murphy sounds like he's trying to be angry but it's muddled with despair and sadness. But Bellamy begins to feel anger boiling underneath his skin because Murphy doesn't understand why they cast him out, why Bellamy did what he did. 

"Shut the fuck up." Bellamy interrupts as Murphy begins to open his mouth to resume once more. A daze of confusion clouds Murphy before he scowls at Bellamy. Bellamy has been silent up until now and Murphy doesn't seem to be able to understand why Bellamy has so suddenly cut him off and not allowed him to continue with his monologue.

"Scuse me?' he's baffled and confused but Bellamy won't stand for the guilt trip anymore. He has to make a stand for himself. 

"I said shut the fuck up, John!" Bellamy growls hatefully. Murphy stares at him but doesn't speak, he's staring with those same bleak tear-filled eyes. "You pushed Charlotte to the edge, you wanted her to die. She was a child!" Bellamy can't contain the rage tainting his voice now. Charlotte had made a mistake, she didn't need to take her life to apologize for it.

"So was I! I was fuckin' sixteen and everyone wanted me to die, so why not her?!" the emotion is back in Murphy's voice as he clenches his fists into white knuckled balls on his lap. 

"I made a mistake doing what I did to you, I know that!" Bellamy is yelling now and he doesn't care if he wakes the others in camp up. "I was under pressure, but when it came to Charlotte I had to time to think! Blood for blood solves nothing, I realized that!" 

"But you threw me away, Bell!" The nickname slips past Murphy's lip without the sad boy even realizing. "You abandoned me in the woods with nothing, I couldn't even fight when the grounders found me, I surrendered like a fuckin' coward and let them take me. They tortured me and I couldn't even fight!" Murphy's voice is raised as well too now, this time an audible sob bursts out of his body. It fought its way up his throat and shook his whole lanky body. "The things they did to me, Bell... I prayed that you would come, that anyone would come but no one did! I had no one!" 

"It's what you deserved!" the words leave Bellamy before he even has a chance to think of what he's saying, of what the consequences may be. It is suddenly so quiet in the tent, the sudden silence makes Bellamy's ears ring as the weight of what he says hits Murphy like a punch in the gut. Suddenly he's grabbing the cup from the floor and pitches it at Bellamy's head. But Bellamy isn't drunk and he sees it coming. He ducks in time and the tin cup bounces harmlessly off his strong bare arm. But the deed is done and Bellamy feels a surge of rage. He suddenly lunges forward out of his sleeping bag and launches himself at Murphy. Murphy tries to scramble back but his reflexes are slowed due to the alcohol coursing through his system and Bellamy easily knocks him down and pins Murphy's thin wrists over his head. Bellamy only had to use one hand, his large hands easily wrapped around Murphy. For a boy that could talk so much shit, he didn't really have the muscle to back any of it up. Murphy thrashes pathetically underneath him and it is no struggle for Bellamy to straddle Murphy's hips and keep him from landing any hits.

"I didn't deserve any of it, Blake!" He must be furious, he has only referred to Bellamy by his last name a few times and it's only ever been when Murphy is trying to spite him or screaming in his face. "You don't know what they did to me! You don't know how painful those three days were." Murphy's voice is shaking and underneath the simmering rage Bellamy can see fear, it increases when Bellamy unnecessarily tightens the grip on Murphy's wrists. He hates being restrained, being tied down. 

"You're pathetic, John!" The roles are reversed, Bellamy only uses Murphy's first name when he's putting Murphy in his place. "You gave up our camp, our people, you murdered two of your team mates, your own people!"

"They aren't my people, they never were! I would've killed everyone there if I hadn't been caught." Murphy suddenly hawks a load of spit into Bellamy's face. The older man is caught off guard and without even thinking about it he raises his splayed hand from beside Murphy's head and harshly slaps him. Murphy's head flies to the side and a groan escapes his trembling lips. Bellamy doesn't even respect him enough to punch, he slaps Murphy like the bitch he is, open handed and hard. It leaves a stinging red mark on Murphy's cheek. Bellamy is caught up in his rage and the hand that just slapped Murphy flies to the boy's slim throat. Murphy whips his head back to stare up at Bellamy and the absolute terror in those eyes is like a fucking drug to Bellamy.

"Bellamy, n-" but he's cut off as Bellamy suddenly tightens his strong fingers around Murphy's throat in a crushing and bruising grip. Murphy's eyes bulge and he instantly begins to buck with renewed strength as the dazed drunken haze dissolves into pure panic. Bellamy grits his teeth and watches as the slim boy gasps helplessly for air.

"I should've let you fucking hang, I should've let you die! Connor and Myles would still be alive if you had died, maybe we'd still have Charlotte! Do you really think your life is worth three?! Guess what, it's fucking not, John! Your life is worth nothing, you are nothing! You're fucking useless to everyone here, you're nothing but a burden!" Bellamy isn't yelling anymore, his voice is low and absolutely seething with pure hatred. Murphy can hear the malice and the hate, he's beginning to truly panic from the lack of air. Bellamy's hand is nowhere near as painful as the belt was, this is nothing like being hung and Murphy feels a rush of shame when a moan escapes him and the blood rushes straight to his fucking dick. He's absolutely powerless and he can't help the way his heart pounds and his prick is instantly hard in his worn out pants. In their compromising position Murphy knows Bellamy has to feel it, and from the expression on his face he has felt Murphy's hot blood filled heat pressed into his thigh. Bellamy is shirtless, only in boxers, there's no way Bellamy could not feel it, couldn't see the now visible tent in Murphy's pants. Bellamy's eyes widen and he suddenly straightens from his hunched position. His hands flies from Murphy's throat and Murphy can see the disgust and confusion in his eyes as he stares down at Murphy.

"You sick fuck, did you just get fucking hard from me choking you?!" Bellamy wants to shout in disgust and jump away from Murphy but there's this wild glint in Murphy's eyes that's captivating. The boy with the faded scars is gasping for air, his back arching and hips stuttering as he thrusts up against Bellamy with a pathetic whimper.

"You're right, Bell, I'm fucking nothing, you fucking hate me more than anyone here. Show me how much you hate me, Bell, fucking hit me, choke me, please!" The begging breathless phrases pour past Murphy's lips like a waterfall as he sucks in lungfuls of air, his head swimming in that blissful way only oxygen deprivation can make one feel. Bellamy feels frozen for a moment before he lashes out once again and slaps Murphy across the face. Murphy inhales sharply as his head falls to the side and he gives out the most wanton, most un-Murphy like sound Bellamy had ever heard. That moan goes straight to Bellamy's cock and he's suddenly just as hard as Murphy is. The heat is intense and heavy in the air and Bellamy feels himself giving into the wild darkness.

Murphy barely gets a chance to turn his head back to face Bellamy before his thick hand is back on Murphy's throat, squeezing and choking as if trying to force the very life force from his body. He's merciless and from the way Murphy's eyes glaze over with fear and he ruts up against Bellamy's bare thigh. Bellamy lets go of Murphy's wrists and reaches down to rub himself through his boxers. Murphy's hands instinctively fly to the hand wrapped around his throat. He claws and scratches and manages to irk out a pathetic squeak as his lips pucker open and close, gasping for air. "You like being choked, you sick fuck? Did you get fucking hard when you were hanging from that rope?" Bellamy hisses in his ear. Murphy can't speak, can't catch the breath to speak so he simply frantically shakes his head. Bellamy ignores Murphy's needy erection, choosing instead to furiously rub his palm against his own heavy cock. Why should Murphy's needs matter to him? Murphy's attempts to claw at Bellamy's hands are weakening and his stuttering hips are slowing. His eyes are rolling back into his head and his trembling is slowing. "You think about it when you jerk off, huh?" This time his question was met with a weak nod. Bellamy appreciates the honesty so he takes his hand off Murphy's throat. This time Murphy doesn't gulp in frantic lungfuls of air as he did last time. This time his head lolls to the side and he breathes in shallowly. His arms are limp by his side, he's so limp and compliant but his erection is still throbbing embarrassingly against his thigh. It's so fucking hot, Murphy being so open and vulnerable. Bellamy stares down at the expanse of neck and takes advantage of Murphy's inability to fight back. He buries his face into Murphy's neck, eagerly biting and sucking at the sweat tinged flesh. Murphy's trying to moan but it comes out as pathetic breathless whimpers. Bellamy bites down hard on the junction of Murphy's collarbone and neck, harder than he would ever bite into a girl. Murphy barely flinches. Instead he thrusts up against Bellamy in a puny gesture of desire. Bellamy can taste coppery blood on his tongue, he's broken Murphy's flesh. He wants to take out every bit of frustration on Murphy, and it seemed that Murphy wanted to take it. 

"You're so goddamn pathetic, getting off on this like some fucking slut." Bellamy pants out. He's desperate, but he holds himself together. He's in control right now, Murphy has given the control to him and Bellamy was determined to excel in this in the same way he attempted to excel in his every day activities. Murphy nodded with a soft little girlish whimper. Bellamy's hand suddenly flew to Murphy's hair where he tangled it in the younger male's sweat drenched locks. He forcefully pulled on Murphy's hair and made the boy look him in the eyes. He spoke two simple sentences, a direct command. "Say it, Murphy. Say you want this, say you want to be punished like a fucking whore." He bent over and whispered the last sentence in Murphy's ear and the reaction was fucking priceless. The shaken, aroused yet frightened moan that slips past Murphy's lip is like the strongest aphrodisiac Bellamy had ever encountered, it makes him want to put Murphy on his hands and knees like he's one of Bellamy's girls and fuck him into the dirt, on all fours so Bellamy didn't have to look at their faces. 

"Yes..." Murphy breathes it out so softly Bellamy could've missed it if his ear wasn't so close to Murphy's lips. It's not enough and Bellamy makes that clear in the way that he jerks on the handful of Murphy's dirty hair. He relishes in the cry it provokes from the boy he was determined to break.

"I told you to say. it." Murphy swallows hard and Bellamy can feel the heat radiating off of his cheeks as Murphy trembles in shame underneath him.

"Punish me, please."

"Not enough." Bellamy purrs dangerously in his former comrade in arms. To make a statement Bellamy suddenly and skillfully rolled his hips against Murphy's erection. Murphy's breath catches in his throat and Bellamy can practically see the last shreds of Murphy's dignity leave him.

"You're right, I'm a slut, I'm a pathetic fucking slut and I deserve to be punished. Please punish me, Bell! You were right, I'm worthless, I deserve nothing, I don't deserve this but please give me this, make me feel something, anything!" Murphy has seemingly regained his strength as he cries out the last words. Bellamy is sure the others in the tents near his own can hear them, but he doesn't give a fuck. Let them listen to Murphy begging for Bellamy to hit him, to choke him. Bellamy had nothing to be ashamed of, if anything Murphy is the one to be embarrassed. He's pleased to hear these words, those begging words. He doesn't speak, his lustful expression doesn't shift an inch as he suddenly tears Murphy's shirt right down the middle. Murphy's chest is now bare and exposed and Bellamy can now see the scars up close and personal. He'd seen them from far away when Murphy would change his shirt outside of his tent or when he was leaving the river from a bath. But those were rare occasions. Murphy seemed to try to keep his chest covered at all times and Bellamy could see why. Just the scars on his chest stood out against his pale skin. They were raised and had a rough, almost rope like texture to his chest. Bellamy suddenly reached down and pinched one of Murphy's nipples between his fingers and relished the pain cry that shook Murphy. 

"Look at you, those fucking scars." Bellamy knows Murphy is self conscious about it and he could tell his comment shamed him as he suddenly made an attempt to throw his arms around his chest to conceal his scars. Bellamy wouldn't allow it and roughly slapped his hands away. "Look at your chest, look at mine. It's fucking disgusting." Bellamy scoffs as he runs a hand down his own smooth chest, not even a scratch marring that tanned skin stretched over well defined muscle. Murphy might be humiliated but that didn't make his cock shy at all. Murphy suddenly surges forward and eagerly throws his hands around Bellamy's waist. He gropes at Bellamy's smooth back and begins to press hungry kisses to Bellamy's well defined chest. 

"So fucking perfect, so goddamn smooth. Murphy whimpers in joy. His lips brush over Bellamy's hard nipples and he looks desperately up at Bellamy through his lashes as his tongue shyly darts out and licks over Bellamy's right nipple. Bellamy grunts and throws his head back in pleasure, Murphy dragging his short, blunt fingernails down Bellamy's back. Bellamy arches into the touch but suddenly leans back and delivers a third sharp slap to Murphy's cheek. There's going to be a bruise there come tomorrow morning. But Murphy leans into the slap, as if even a violent touch is better than nothing at all. 

"I didn't tell you that you could do that." he purrs dangerously as he suddenly stands. He pushes Murphy off him in the process. Murphy slides to his knees and watches in awe as Bellamy pushes his boxers down around his ankles. Bellamy has a pretty cock, Murphy thinks. It's large, but not disgustingly so. The veins are perfectly defined, the base is as tan as he is, and the tip is a soft pink. It's slick with accumulated pre cum and there's beads of the pearly white liquid collecting at the tip and it's taking every bit of self control that is in Murphy's body not to stick his tongue out and lick the drops right off the tip. 

"Fuck, Bell, it's so fucking big, I want it in me so fucking bad." Murphy practically sobs with need as he finally has a chance to press his hand against his cock and god fucking damn it feels so fucking good. But Bellamy doesn't seem to agree with his move as he smacks the broken boy's cheek. 

"Don't speak. Hands behind your back. You better not fucking touch yourself." Bellamy scolds him. It's like a fucking drug, the rush he gets when he watches Murphy instantly obey Bellamy, even if it means depriving himself of pleasure. "Good. I'm gonna use you for the only thing that shit-talking mouth is good for." he spits at Murphy just as the boy had done to him earlier. Normally something like that would send Murphy into an absolute fit of rage but tonight he seems to welcome it. He seems to derive utter pleasure from it in fact. "Open your mouth." Murphy stills for a moment. Bellamy's face slides into a scowl and he wonders why Murphy is not jumping to obey him like he had. "I said open your mouth." he repeats himself this time in an icy and intimidating tone. Murphy obeys this time and slowly opens his mouth. "Stick out your tongue." Murphy complies and Bellamy doesn't waste any time. He presses the tip of his thick cock to Murphy's tone and watches a look of bliss roll through Murphy's feature as he gets a taste of Bellamy's salty flesh. The elder only lingers for a moment before he slowly but surely begins to slide his cock into the broken boy's eager mouth. Murphy holds completely still and obedient until the tip of Bellamy's cock brushes against the back of his throat and he suddenly gags. Murphy has never done this before. Giving head to a grown man is far different from the lust fueled trysts he'd had with some girls on the Ark. Those had been quick, done in the stairwell in a blind spot in a hazy rushed mess before the guards came looking for them. Bellamy pulls back and roughly jerks at Murphy's hair as the younger of the two takes a breath.

"Are you fucking serious, John? You still have two more inches to take and you're already gagging? Pathetic." Murphy's face colors red with the twin emotions of shame and lust. "Stop being such a little bitch and take it. I'm not going to go easy on you." Bellamy warns Murphy, getting a nod from the boy on his knees. Normally in a situation like this Bellamy would set up a safe word or a safety signal but Murphy didn't deserve one. Murphy took a deep breath and attempted to compose himself before he once more stuck his tongue out. Bellamy placed both hands on Murphy's head, gripping his hair to hold him still. Bellamy quickly resumes and begins to thrust into Murphy's mouth. He hadn't lied, he thrust into Murphy's throat as he had last time. This time he ignored the gagging sounds and pained whimpers as the unknown intrusion painfully enters his throat. He's tense, Bellamy can feel it. He's nervous and his nerves are keeping Bellamy from fucking that tight throat of his. 

"Suck, move your tongue around." He orders. "If you want me to fuck you you'd better get that cock nice and wet." his words seem to trigger something in Murphy as his body relaxes at the thought of getting fucked. Bellamy grunts in relief as another inch slips into Murphy's throat. Murphy's eyes bulge practically out of his skull as it slips deeper into his throat. "That's so fucking good, this is what you're good for, John, sucking cock and getting your throat fucked like a goddamn slut." Every word packs a punch, is laced with malice as he begins to thrust shallowly into Murphy's throat. Murphy's cheeks are hollowed out and he struggles to keep stroking the shaft with his tongue whilst simultaneously keep from gagging on the intrusion in his throat. He's trying so hard to please, Murphy is gazing up at Bellamy with what one might call adoration and a need for reassurance. "That's right, John, just relax your throat." he's moaning loudly now and John seems to be feeding off the approval. He can't breathe with the cock stuffed in his throat. It's just another method of suffocation, something Murphy craves. Tears begin spilling down his cheeks as he quells the urge to pull himself off, to get a breath of air. He holds firm, even as his face begins to turn bright red and he begins twitching, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he began to feel dizzy. Finally Bellamy takes pity on him and slowly lets his cock slip out of Murphy's wet mouth. Murphy's chapped lips are swollen, a stringy mixture of cum and spit link Murphy's trembling lips to the throbbing pink head of Bellamy's thick cock. It suddenly breaks and falls back onto Murphy's face. It's a perfect look for Murphy, swollen lips with Bellamy's cum on his face. His broken boy looks dizzy and absolutely heady, Murphy's cock is painfully hard in his pants and when Bellamy gives the cold command of, 'take them off' they're practically torn off his legs. He shucks his boxers down and just like that the scarred boy is naked on his knees in front of them. Bellamy doesn't try to hide the predatory grin as he glances Murphy up and down. 

"Hands and knees, now." Murphy hurriedly obeys, he gets the message, it's painfully clear. He turns his back and drops to his elbows, his back arched and ass sticking up. From this angle Murphy could almost pass for a girl with his girlish hips and pale skin. How Murphy hasn't gotten tan yet like the others, but he enjoys the contrast as he kneels behind Murphy and runs his hand over the pattern of lacing, criss crossing scars across Murphy's pale skin. 

"Are you going to fuck me?" Murphy whimpers hopefully as Bellamy stares at the boy's ass. 

"I didn't tell you that you could speak." Bellamy reminds him as he spits into his hand and rubs it over Murphy's trembling hole. Murphy whimpers but he doesn't speak, he's trying his hardest in being obedient and take his punishment well for Bellamy. Bellamy knows he should take time to prep Murphy, but Murphy doesn't deserve that. Murphy wants the pain and Bellamy is more than willing to give it. Bellamy nudges Murphy's legs apart, the younger is shorter than Bellamy and makes positioning a bit of a scheme. He doesn't warn Murphy when he presses the tip of his cock to Murphy's tight, virginal entrance. He hears Murphy inhale sharply as Bellamy presses the tip into him. It's so fucking tight already, none of the girls Bellamy has fucked have ever been this tight. It's so tight Bellamy almost worries that it will be impossible to get his cock out, but he honestly wouldn't complain about that. Murphy's fists are clenched once more and his eyes squeezed shut as Bellamy slowly and surely begins to slide into him inch by torturous inch. Bellamy gets his cock halfway in when Murphy suddenly cries out in pain, unable to hold it in any longer. "Shut the fuck up. Sluts don't cry." Bellamy reminds him with a harsh slap to Murphy's ass. Murphy whimpers and bites down so hard on his bottom lip he's worried he'll tear through it. Bellamy doesn't wait to get his cock all the way in before he suddenly begins to hammer into the pliant body beneath him. Murphy throws his head back and barely contains a shout, managing to bring it down to a pained moan as Bellamy stretches him out. It hurts so bad but it feels so fucking right. Murphy deserves this, he deserves to be down on his hands and knees for Bellamy to fuck. It's all he's worth. Bellamy's grip on his hips is bruising as he fucks into Murphy. Murphy's head rests in an awkward position against the ground. His neck will be aching tomorrow, along with his throat and his eyes. Throaty moans and groans pour from the both of them, most of the moans are coming from Murphy. Bellamy doesn't even try to hit Murphy's prostate. He's selfish, this is for himself. He doesn't care of Murphy's needs. Besides Murphy seems to be enjoying this in his own sense. "God you're so fucking tight for a slut, Murphy. A fucking virgin ass for me to claim, for me to loosen, for me to make mine." Bellamy gasps out. The tightness is sheer bliss and in one smooth stroke he finally manages to bottom out in Murphy's ass, an action that makes Murphy's tear filled eyes roll back into his head as he suddenly comes with a mixture of a sob and a moan. Bellamy was impressed, Murphy had come completely untouched.

"It hurts so bad, Bell, everything hurts so. fucking. bad." Murphy suddenly sobs. Bellamy realizes the situation, realizes that Murphy is here because he has no one, because he's so alone it pains him in ways that this fucking could never come close to. 

"Don't talk." Bellamy says coldly and Murphy whimpers sadly, his cock is spent and he's completely limp, just a hole for Bellamy to fuck. He focuses only on the finish now, he's so close. Murphy is so broken down that this is what it has come to. Whoring himself out for any attention he could receive, even if it was from a man who hated him and wanted to see him in pain. Murphy is silent now as Bellamy's thrusts become more shallow, less rhythmic and more frantic until the white light welcomes him and he's spilling into that tight ass, filling it with his load. He buries his cock fully in one last time, he knew this would be the last time Murphy's ass would be this tight, there's no telling who's tent he'd stumble into on a different drunken night, just begging to be fucked and abused. Murphy whimpers pathetically as Bellamy slips his softening cock out of his ass and watches as drops of his cum trickle down Murphy's thighs. What comes next is silence. Stifling silence and Bellamy slowly pulls his boxers back on, keeping his back to Murphy as the younger one dresses. He hears Murphy stumble to his feet, a muffled sniffle filling the silence of the tent. He can tell from the shaken breaths that Murphy is silently crying. 

"I'm sorry, Bellamy." he hears Murphy barely manage to choke out. Bellamy knows Murphy wants affection now, there are plenty of girls like Murphy, but Bellamy won't give into it. He won't give Murphy any hope that this was more than just a fuck. 

"Leave, Murphy." Bellamy kept his voice void of emotion, cold and empty. 

"Bell..."

"I said leave, now." he makes himself clear and he can see Murphy's shoulders slumping without even having to turn around. Murphy makes a hasty exit without another word to Bellamy, no goodbyes or sharp words. Bellamy has seen a whole different side of Murphy tonight and it has made something clear to him: Earth didn't break him. The Sky People did.


End file.
